


Window into the Soul of the Artist

by JC Oakenshield (SilverFountains)



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, Obsession, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Secret Admirer, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:35:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8694787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFountains/pseuds/JC%20Oakenshield
Summary: Glimpses into Girolamo's disturbed musings during the murder investigation of Cardinal Rodrigo with Leonardo Da Vinci.





	

The way that his mind maps out every detail, following the trail like a bloodhound. As if there is an invisible thread that only the great Leonardo Da Vinci can see. Even though he already knows the answer to this puzzle himself, watching the younger man work it out from the clues, that is the most exciting part.

He could barely have hoped that the mastermind would truly engage in this hunt.

He finds he's holding his breath as Leonardo opens the shroud and admires his work. A mere glance is all it takes to set the wheels of his brain in motion.

Girolamo watches in memorisation as his fine fingers trace patterns through the air, as if he's painting in another dimension. Hands of an artist for sure - delicate and yet strong from his skilled sword fighting. Quietly watching them at work gives such pleasure. Like the tentacles of his genius brain reaching out.

He longs for those hands…

_No! Shut up, shut up! Focus! You're missing it!_

“And the corpse suspended… suspended in the manner of Saint Peter.”

_Yes!_

As Leonardo analyses his work, understanding how he had positioned the body like a grotesque sculpture, his whole being pulses with pure adrenaline.

_He loves it. Look at him, how excited he is. Look how he appreciates it, this challenge that you've given him._

He closes his eyes briefly, battling with his other consciousness, pulling himself to order, until Leonardo's voice rings out to him from that other world, returning them both to reality.

“The killer is an artist.”

Girolamo struggles to keep his composure at so much praise. Leonardo's presence beside him makes every bit of him tingle with delight.

“The killer we hunt is a pious man.”

Fascinating. Not only does the artist follow the trail perfectly, but he actually _understands_ it _._ The symbolism. The care that he had put into each of those things.

“What does the heart represent?” Leonardo asks the count.

 _He wants my input. He trusts me as his advisor. His partner on this quest._ Just like when they were in the new world, working together to achieve their common goal.

“The heart is something sacred.” _My gift to you, maestro._

Their footsteps sound so loud on the paved floor of the chapel. Leonardo's stride is confident as he opens the altar door, revealing the heart, so carefully placed in its crown of thorns.

Marvellous. But easy. He will have to make the next puzzle harder still. Challenging that fantastic brain.

How incredible it is to have his full attention like this. Even if Leonardo does not yet know. Oh, he must not know, for then the game will be over.

The next one is even better though. Already the excitement of that thought flutters through him like a shiver. Someone greater, who can deliver a true message of how this is for him, a personalised present. _Already she waits for you._ _Only the very best for you,_ _my artista._ A treasure in return for watching his great mind at work.

He almost falters as the other retrieves the sacramental bread from his offering. He feels elated that the maestro had completed his challenge and yet disappointed that it is over so soon.

“He is sorry.”

_Yes._

_But it had to happen this way, can't you see. And you are here now to admire it. You_ do _admire it. You alone understand the art of my design, of my blackened soul._

_Only you can see it._

Already he longs to repeat the pleasure. Already he wishes to spend this time together again. A deadly game.

_I'm sorry._

A soulmate for his mind.

_We are one._

“A work of art can be a window into the soul of the artist.”

Girolamo feels like Leonardo is shaking him awake from a vile dream as he presents the heart of the cardinal at the Pope's table.

_Yes, an artist. But not like this! Forgive me!_

Already the saint is fighting the sinner for attention.

“He is devout. Driven to kill. And yet horrified by his own actions.”

 _I am so very sorry. But I need to. I need_ you! _I did this for you, creator of my devotion, of my sin. Only you can help me, Leonardo Da Vinci. Only you who truly understands me._


End file.
